


How to Conquer: A Feed You the Sky oneshot

by pokeasleepingsmaug



Series: Feed You the Sky [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, Light Dom/sub
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 12:43:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pokeasleepingsmaug/pseuds/pokeasleepingsmaug
Summary: A few years after Feed You the Sky will end, Ivar and Kára are at a feast when things take a turn for the dirty.





	How to Conquer: A Feed You the Sky oneshot

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the amazing shesafreesoul on Tumblr for this idea! Hope you guys enjoy this little peek into the future!

Ivar's eyes gleamed with excitement, seeming to hold the gaze of every person gathered to hear him speak. It was the first feast of the early spring, and this was the day the king would reveal his plans for the summer raiding season. Seeing him like this made Kára's heart beat faster, the anticipation growing in her belly in proportion to the amount of ale she'd drunk tonight. She unconsciously tightened her grasp around the dark-haired girl in her lap, and the toddler squirmed, screeching her protest. Kára ran a gentle hand over the fine black hair of her daughter's head, smiling as Ivar's eyes found them.

He paused, taking a moment to drink in the sight of his wife and daughter. Her auburn hair in a simple braid over one shoulder, hazel eyes boring into his as she stroked the baby's hair, Ivar wondered—as he had every day since she stormed into his hall—what he had done to deserve such favor. The baby would reach her third summer soon; she was all huge blue eyes and black hair, fine and soft as raw silk. He stuck his tongue out at her and was rewarded by a shrill giggle.

The grin he shot his little family was like the sun breaking through the clouds, and then he was all business once again, a king always ready for battle. He took a deep drag from his drinking horn, letting the anticipation in the hall build. He set the cup down deliberately, dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. His eyes traveled from one man to the next, the ones that fought beside him since he had taken his father's throne, and the ones who had always remained steadfastly loyal to his wife. He knew it warmed her to see them sitting together in one hall, sharing stories and ale like lifelong friends.

He took another moment to watch her watching them, the sum of all their kingdom gathered here before them: the bold fighting men and their wives, children rolling around scuffling under the tables while their parents laughed and drank. Ivar saw the quiet pride in his wife's eyes, and in that moment he promised himself he would bring more men to this hall after this raid, expand their army and make her even more proud.

“This summer,” he thundered, immediately silencing all talk in the hall. He let the tense quiet grow for a moment before shattering it with another roar, “we raid north! Ubbe will lead the boats up the coast, to the lands of Jarl Hastein, and I will lead our army through the pass in the mountains. Since he will have spies along the coast, we must make that our smaller force. Let him think we are weak and will be easily defeated.” He paused, glancing around, a wolfish grin spreading slowly across his pouty lips. “But we are not weak!” The words were a menacing growl, sending shivers down Kára's spine, awakening a heat between her thighs. She could barely contain herself when he was in this mood.

“I will lead the army through the mountain pass, because it will be lightly defended. We will burn every village and farm we find, sparing them only if they swear loyalty to me and my queen.” He shot the queen in question a scorching look, the heat in his blue eyes threatening to burn her from the space between their thrones. “And then we will meet outside the town of Hed, Hastein's stronghold, and there crush him! His lands and armies shall become ours, and you will all come home with silver! I swear it to you right now, Ivar the Boneless has no more need of riches! All I need is the head of Hastein, to show to the world that we are to be feared. All riches gained shall be split evenly between the fighting men and their families.”

He sat back against his ornately carved throne, the one he had won from Kára's father, as the hall erupted into cheers. Kára'ssmall hand found his and he twined his fingers with hers automatically, bringing her hand to his mouth and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She leaned in closer to him, her breath hot on his cheek, “You are brilliant as always, Ivar.”

He chuckled, slowly dragging his blue eyes over her flushed cheeks. He knew what she thought of his mind. “Is that so, min elskede? How brilliant do you think me?”

“The most brilliant man I have ever met,” she answered with no hesitation. “I can show you how brilliant I think you are.”

“And how will you do that, my Valkyrie?” He stroked his thumb gently over the back of her hand and felt her shiver at the light touch. Ivar couldn't stop the slow smirk. He loved seeing the way he made her feel. He had been worried, at the start of their marriage, that she would come to find him unappealing. That his legs would overshadow his mind, and she would realize she had been foolish to tie herself to a useless cripple. 

They have been married for a few years now, and this doubt is just finally starting to die. Every time he hears her moan his name, every time her hips rise up to meet his, every slow kiss and every word of praise that falls from her lips weakens that doubt further, and he knows that soon it will be nothing but a memory. But for now, at least, he still needs the proof of her love, still needs to hear her tell him how wonderful he is to her.

She settles herself on the arm of her throne, the toddler banging on the table with her little fists as her uncle Ubbe makes silly faces at her across the table. “I will begin by telling you how flawless your plan is, as always. Then I will feel your chest and arms and back, running my hands over your body to feel how strong you are. After I am satisfied you are strong enough, I will tell you how your sword-arm, like your strategies, will never fail. What happens next, husband, is entirely your decision.” She raises her brows, smiling at him, and he feels himself hardening at the hungry look on her face.

“How is it my decision, Kára?” His voice is husky with lust, and it only widens her smile.

“It depends on whether or not you will let me conquer you. To demonstrate how best to conquer Hastein's lands.”

Ivar gripped his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. He saw his wife's eyes slide to his hands and knew she was imaging them clenching the furs on their bed as she rode him. Her breathing was a little faster than normal now, and he had to close his eyes for just a moment, he was so overwhelmed by her in the flickering glow of the fire. 

When he opened them, the chair beside him was empty and his wife was placing their daughter in his lap. The tiny girl snuggled against his chest with a content sigh, popping a thumb into her mouth. “Wh-where are you going?” Ivar sputtered at Kára.

She smiled down at him, eyes glinting with mischief, and leaned down low to whisper in his ear. He was no fool, and caught the way she threw her shoulders back to bare the swell of her breasts right before his eyes, his wild little woman. “You don't really expect me to just sit here, do you? If I don't do something, I'm going to soak through my dress.”

He watched her walk away, slender hips swaying beneath her skirts, and the hardness in his trousers became nearly painful. Curse that woman, he had to have her. “Ubbe!” His voice was sharper than he meant, and his brother looked up immediately. “Come take Ingrid, I have urgent matters to attend.” Ubbe saw the queen's empty throne and rolled his eyes as he reached across the table to collect his niece.

“Come sit with me, little Ingrid, and maybe mama and papa will give you a little brother,” Ubbe crooned, settling the toddler in his lap and ripping her a small bite of chicken. Ivar dropped hastily from his throne and dragged himself out of the hall as quickly as he could. Ubbe wasn't the only one who noticed Kára's empty throne and Ivar's hasty departure; the cheers of warriors and clinking of ale horns followed him through the door.

It was not far to their bedchamber and she didn't have too much of a head start, so Ivar hoped she hadn't gotten too far without him. He finally pushed open the door and closed it quickly behind him as he entered the room. She lay sprawled on the bed, eyes closed and auburn hair spreading around her like a wildfire. Her dress was a heap on the floor, and one of her fingers teased lightly at the center of her pleasure. Her breath caught in a hitch and released in a breathy moan of his name, and finally he alerted her to his presence.

“Yes, min elskede?” He pulled himself up onto the bed beside her, his large, blunt fingers taking the place of hers. He moaned, feeling the wetness that was waiting for him. “Is this what the thought of me does to you, wife?”

She didn't answer, only pressed herself against the heel of his hand. He reached down to kiss her. She tasted faintly of ale, and he sucked her tongue into his mouth and nipped it gently. And then she was on him like a flood, and he was all too willing to drown. She pinned him beneath her, careless hands ripping his clothing off. When he was bare before her she looked down at him, chest heaving and pink lips parted. “Let me show you how to conquer.” Her hands were everywhere, kneading and stroking his skin, feeling the taut strength of his rippling muscles, and he was powerless beneath her onslaught.

“You start by weakening the defenses,” she explained, tongue and teeth harrying him, nipping and teasing wherever she pleased—his collarbones, inner thighs, his nipples, the palms of his hands. Her tongue dragged slowly across his navel and down, before circling his tip in one quick stroke. “Sometimes they call for words, for an offering of peace.” She met his eyes.”Be ruthless, Ivar.”

And then he was in her mouth, felt her take him in until he hit the back of her throat and started sucking. She bobbed along his length, occasionally dragging her tongue along him, and as the precum started to drip into her mouth, she suddenly released his cock with a pop. “After the time for words is over begins the fighting. In this, too, show no mercy.”

She threw her leg over him and lined her entrance up with his manhood, and then he was held tight in the warm wetness of her core, and finally he began to move. He bucked his hips up against her, fingers digging into her thighs, and she threw her head back with a cry of release similar to one he'd heard her make before she took a life. 

As he came deep inside her and she collapsed down on him, he thought—not for the first time—that this wild little woman was, in fact, his Valkyrie. She was the one who had carried him home, not to Valhalla, but to a hall they shared together. He locked his hand behind her head, tangling his fingers in the fiery silk of her hair, and drank in the taste of her kiss. He thought she must be even sweeter than the mead they drank in Odin's hall.


End file.
